“Heather, where are the streamers?” Nicole yells from the living room.

“Check the bags where all the decorations were!”

Today is the surprise party for Eli. I’m shocked I’ve been able to keep him completely in the dark. His mother left for New York the other day and can’t make it, but Randy and Savannah will be here. Nicole came over about an hour ago and started getting things ready.

I told Eli that Nicole needed some best friend time since he’s been monopolizing me and asked him to come pick me up at eight.

“Found them!” She bounces into the room with a grin. “We only have about five more minutes till everyone gets here. What else do you need?”

“I think we’re all set. The cake is done, the food is out, and we’re decorated.”

“Good. Now you can tell me about your big public date with Mr. Sexy Pants last night,” she says as she flops on my bed.

Eli wasn’t kidding when he said it was going to get crazy. Within thirty minutes of the call from his publicist, we had about fifteen paparazzi outside the restaurant. Before we left, he told me exactly what to do and promised he’d shield me as much as he could.

It wasn’t all that fun, but we survived. Once we got back to Eli’s house, he encouraged me to call my friends and the police department to let them know. I couldn’t believe he thought they’d care that much, but he’s the expert on dealing with it. No one seemed to care, except for Matt. That was a fun conversation.

“I’m sure you read all about it,” I say with my brow raised.

Nicole is a gossip column freak, so I’m sure she knew before I did that the story was going to break. “Not the same. But you’re right. Tell me about what happened with Barney Fife instead.”

Her and her names for Matt. “He was very short with me. Just one word answers.”

“I’m glad he knows. I hope he hates himself for walking out on you.”

Eli was not happy about that conversation. He knew he couldn’t say much, but I could see how angry he was that I had to tell Matt. It’s the part about my job that sucks. I wish I didn’t have to deal with my ex-husband, yet I can’t say I didn’t enjoy having to tell him.

“Matt made his choice, and he has to live with it,” I say as I put the last of my clothes away. Not being here much in the last few weeks has made me a little lazy regarding my home. “All right, let’s finish up. They’ll be here soon.”

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Nicole asks.

“Yes.”

“Oh no,” she admonishes me as she looks at my outfit. “You need to change.”

I glance at the shorts and top I’m wearing, confused as to what the hell her issue is. “There’s nothing wrong with my clothes.”

“Put a freaking skirt on.”

“What I’m wearing is fine.”

“No.” She laughs. “What you’re wearing is lame.”

I’m not sure what the hell she wants. “What is the issue? Should I be wearing a ball gown for a party with friends and Eli’s brother?”

She snorts and heads to my closet. “You need to dress a little sexy for the man. It’s his birthday! I have two words—easy . . . access.”

The one thing that will always be constant is that Nicole is always thinking about sex. I’m here, worrying about making sure the house is ready, and she’s worrying about me getting laid. Nicole riffles through my clothes, and a few things fly from my closet.

“Here,” she shoves a skirt and off-the-shoulder top at me. “Put that on, fix your face, you have like . . . two minutes.”

Sometimes, I love this girl, other times I’d love to kill her, this is the latter.

Instead of arguing with her, I get changed. I don’t think Eli gives a shit about what I’m wearing, but I want this to be special. After I get dressed, I check my makeup and decide Nicole is an idiot because I was perfectly fine.

A few minutes later, Kristin and Danielle arrive. Both of them left their husband’s and kids at home. I explain again while it’s the four of us that Randy will be here and they have to control their inner fangirls.

“I swear I’ll behave,” Kristin says. “I figure after Eli, this should be easy.”

“I make no promises,” Nicole says as she plops on the couch.

I glare at her. “I swear to God, if you do anything stupid, I’ll pepper spray you.”

Her eyes widen, and I know she’s flashing back to the one time she accidently sprayed herself. Dumbass thought it wouldn’t hurt and was acting like anyone could be a cop, she pushed the button, but it was pointed at her. After that, she’s never even gone near my canisters.

“Not funny.” She crosses her arms.

All of us laugh at her face. She’s such a turd.

Brody and Rachel arrive a few minutes later, and I’m glad they made it. He got along well with Eli at my sister’s memorial. They bonded over the Rays and their predictions for this season. I can’t tell you how happy I was that Brody finally had someone other than me to talk to about baseball.

Five minutes later, the doorbell rings. Once again, a dose of fear hits me. I’ve only met Savannah and Randy once, and it was at their mansion on the beach, now they’ll see my home. Will they think I’m a gold digger? What was I thinking having them come here?

I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I know it’s Nicole. Sometimes our damn near telepathy is a blessing. “You’ll be fine. No one is going to judge you, and if they do, famous or not, I’ll kick their ass.”

I nod and open the door.

“Hey!” Savannah says with her arms wide. “I’m so glad you gave us a reason to come out. I swear, Adriel is giving me gray hair.”

“I’m happy you’re here.” I hug her back.

“Hey, Heather,” Randy’s deep voice booms as he pulls me into a hug.

“Savannah, Randy, these are my friends Nicole, Kristin, and Danielle. That’s my partner Brody and his wife Rachel.”

They all take turns saying hello and shaking each other’s hands. It’s clear that everyone but Nicole is nervous meeting Randy. However, Savannah’s constant poking at him makes it easier to see he’s just a guy. Brody and Randy grab a beer and head into the kitchen, leaving all the women to themselves in the living room. I love that my new friends and old are meshing so easily.

“So, what time will Eli get here?” Savannah questions as she scrunches her shoulders.

“Should be here in about ten minutes. I should text him to make sure.”

I pull my phone out and search for the last name that he put himself as, but there is no Best Sex of My Life contact. I should’ve known he’d change it again. I scroll through the contacts from the start. Of course, he doesn’t use his actual name, that would be too easy, so I continue checking each letter.

When I get to what is clearly the new name change, I burst out laughing. He’s a mess, my mess, but a freaking mess.

Savannah looks at me with a mixture of humor and worry. “What’s so funny?”

“He changes his name in my phone each time I forget to hide it.”

“Oh, what has my idiot brother-in-law called himself this time?”

“Mr. Multiple Orgasms.”

She doubles over with laughter, and I shake my head.

My smile is automatic. I can’t wait to see his face.

“He’ll be here in about twenty minutes!” I tell everyone and go back to my conversation with Savannah. She laughs about the other names Eli’s given himself, and then we all mingle.

Twenty-five minutes pass and still no Eli, so I shoot him another text.

Another fifteen minutes pass, and he doesn’t respond. Maybe he’s stuck in traffic?

I mingle with my friends, watching the clock and trying not to jump to conclusions. I have to remember that not everything is a tragedy waiting to happen. Years of being preprogramed to expect the worst is sometimes a curse.

It’s now half past eight, and he’s definitely late, and I’m undeniably concerned.

“I’m not sure where the hell he is,” I say to myself as I make my way around the room. I shoot off another text.

Brody comes over, places his hand on my back, and drops his voice to a whisper. “What’s the matter, Covey?”

I look over with surprise.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he admonishes. “I can read you. You’re worried about him being late?”

I subtly shake my head. “I’m fine. He said he’d be here over a half hour ago, and we both know it doesn’t take that long to get here. He isn’t responding to my texts, either.”

I wait for my phone to buzz with a response.

“Everything okay?” Nicole asks when she sees me whispering with Brody.

“She’s just being Heather,” Brody explains.

I shoot him a dirty look, and he shrugs. “He usually texts me right back, and he’s now forty minutes late. I’m wondering why he isn’t responding.”

“Maybe he fell asleep?” she suggests, which is ludicrous.

“After he said he was leaving?” I counter.

“Want me to check in at the station for reports of any accidents?” Brody offers.

I shake my head. “No, I’m probably being stupid. I’m going to call him now.”

I can’t explain it, but there’s a niggling feeling in my gut telling me something else is keeping him. There are times that gut check has been the difference of life and death for me, I don’t tend to ignore it, but I don’t want to be a crazy girlfriend, either.

I make my way outside to see if maybe his car is here, but since there’s no sign of him, I call. The phone rings and rings before his voice mail picks up.

“Hey, babe, I’m calling because it’s been almost an hour since you said you’d be here, and I haven’t heard from you. Give me a call when you can. Love you.”

I disconnect the phone and start to pace the porch. My mind races from one extreme to the other as I go from fear to resolve. A big part of me wants to get in the car and head over there, the other says I have to trust him. He could be held up for a hundred reasons, and my being paranoid isn’t going to be good for a long-distance relationship we’re about to embark on. Not wanting to be dramatic, I convince myself to head inside and give him a little more time.

After another seven minutes, that niggling feeling is now a full-blown boulder threatening to crush me if I don’t get in my car to go find him.

Randy comes outside, and I give him a fake smile. “You okay?”

“Eli isn’t answering the phone or my texts, and he said he’d be here at eight.”

He looks at his watch and back to me. “I’ll go to the house and check on him.”

I shake my head. “No, I mean, he has no idea you’re here.”

Randy’s eyes flash with something, but I don’t catch it. “You should do that . . . so it doesn’t ruin the party . . .”

“Okay,” I draw the word out.

“My brother has no idea how lucky he is.”

I smile and shrug. “I think we’re both lucky.

I’m fully aware of how blessed I am that Eli thought enough to chase after me. All those times I tried to get rid of him make me grateful that he doesn’t like to be told no. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know what real love is like.

I enter the house and explain to everyone that I’ll be back. “I’m going to check on him. It’s been an hour, and he still isn’t answering.”

I hop in my car, telling myself the entire way to remain calm no matter what. He’s given me no reason to distrust him, and he’s probably sleeping. Who am I kidding? He’s not sleeping. The only reason I feel as though I’m a good cop is because of my intuition. It’s something so many of us brush aside, but I believe it’s a gift not to be squandered. How many times did I think Matt was unhappy and pretended I was being stupid? So many I lost count. I think back to when Stephanie’s symptoms started, how the doctors told us she didn’t need the extra tests, but I demanded they do them. I knew there was something we were missing, and I refused to budge.

Right now, my nerves are screaming that something isn’t right, and he isn’t where he should be.

I pull up to his house, and the lights are still on. I use the key he gave me and head inside.

“Eli?” I call out, but no one answers.

I hear noise coming from the family room off the kitchen. I turn the corner, but it’s just the television. I check the pool deck before moving on to the rest of the second floor. This freaking house needs to be smaller.

My heart starts to quicken as I get closer to the bedroom. I don’t know where he is, but each step I take makes my stomach grow tighter. I close my eyes, steeling myself for whatever I might find, and open the door.

He lies crumpled in the middle of the bedroom floor.

“Eli!” I scream and rush toward him. Sweat covers his body, he has a gash on his head where blood leaks from. His breathing is labored, and his eyes flutter open to closed. “Oh my God.” My hands shake as I try to turn him over. “Eli, can you hear me?”

He struggles for breath, and I’m not sure if he’s conscious when he mutters something incoherent. I lean closer, listening, and swear I hear the word “Help.”

“Stay awake,” I say as I tap the side of his face.

I dial 9-1-1, and my mind switches immediately into police mode. My voice shakes, but I’m able to give the dispatcher his address, my badge number, and a rundown of the situation. They instruct me to keep him awake if possible and to wait for help.

It shouldn’t take long for the paramedics to arrive, but each second feels like hours.

I sit on the floor with his head in my lap. “Can you open your eyes?” I ask, but he doesn’t respond. “Can you hear me, baby? Can you tell me what happened?”

“Heather,” Eli’s eyes open, and he starts to struggle. “Have to get . . . to . . . phone.”

“I’m right here, Eli. Don’t move, just stay with me,” I command as I wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Help is on the way.”

He pants again, and I take his pulse several times, watching the clock move. His heart rate is all over the place. I hear the banging on the door below, and I now understand what it feels like on this side of the door. My fear of leaving him to let them in but knowing I have to makes my heart plummet.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, even though I know he probably doesn’t understand.

I rush down the stairs faster than I knew I could move and throw the door open. Two of my fellow squad members, Whitman and Vincenzo, stand there.

“Covey?” Whitman asks with surprise.

“He’s upstairs. Where are the medics?” I ask without answering the questions in their eyes.

“They’re pulling through the gate now,” Vincenzo replies. “Are you on duty?”

“Why aren’t they here? He needs medical help!”

“Relax.” Whitman touches my arm. “Wait, is this . . . this is . . .”

I don’t answer him. I don’t care if he’s figuring out whose house this is and why I’m here. The man I’m so deeply in love with is going in and out of consciousness, and he needs help. My legs start to shake, and Whitman catches me as I start to crumble.

He steadies me, and I turn toward the staircase. I can’t wait for help, I am the help. We need to get him to the hospital now. “You guys can transport him, fuck the ambulance. I can’t carry him. I don’t know what happened, but he needs help now!” I say with so much emotion that their faces fall. I’m not sentimental at work. I don’t cry. I don’t whine. I do my job and kick ass. I’m a warrior when I’m in uniform. Even through my sister’s illness, I never once appeared weak. Right now, I can’t hold it together. “He can’t wait! I can’t lose him!”

Tears spring in my gaze, and I can’t stop them. I feel helpless.

“Heather,” Vincenzo says in his calming voice. I know that tone. I’m the master at that tone. “They’re almost here, relax.”

“Go with her,” Whitman instructs. “I’ll get the medics upstairs. I’ll radio when they arrive, okay?”

I know he’s right. We can’t take a patient with a head injury to the hospital in the cop car.

We rush back up the stairs and into the room where Eli still lies helpless on the floor. I move back to him, checking his pulse again. Tears continue to fall as I brush back his dark brown hair.

“They’re here,” I hear Whitman over the radio.

The paramedics enter the room, and I see the recognition as they realize they’re in Eli Walsh’s house. They look at both of us and back to him.

Questions are fired off as they try to gather information about his injuries and medical history. So many things I don’t know . . .

“Is he taking any medication?”

“I don’t know.”

“Any medical conditions?”

“I don’t know,” I admit.

“Allergies?”

“I . . .” I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

“Has he taken any drugs? Been drinking?”

“No, I’ve never seen him take anything. And I wasn’t here, so I have no idea if he drank anything.”

They both look to each other and then ask more questions that I can’t answer. It takes me three minutes to realize how much Eli and I don’t know about each other. He has no idea I’m allergic to penicillin or that I had surgery eight years ago for an ovarian cyst. We’re so in love and so oblivious.

He groans as they roll him onto the backboard and then carry him down the stairs. I grab my phone and keys off the front entry table and they’re already closing the doors.

I quickly try to lock up, but my blood-covered hands are shaking so bad I can’t get the key to go in.

Whitman comes over, places his hand over mine, steadying it so I can turn the key. “I’ll drive you over,” he says, guiding me to the cruiser.

I don’t say anything, I’m in shock, and my mind can’t fully absorb anything. I climb in the back and twist my hands together.

The only thing that goes through my mind is that I can’t lose him. Not like this. Not so soon after Stephanie. Not when we haven’t had enough time. We deserve more time.

Please, God, give me more time.

“Randy!” I rush forward as he sprints into the hospital. It’s been twenty minutes since we arrived. I was told to take a seat and they’d let me know something, but no one will answer me. They keep saying I’m not family. “They’re not telling me anything, but they’re working on him.”

“Okay, I’ll find out.” Randy heads to the desk where the nurse grabs a file and then escorts him back.

Savannah’s hand touches my shoulder, and I turn to her with tears streaming. “It’s okay, Heather. Eli is strong.”

“I don’t know what happened. There was blood on the carpet from the bathroom to where I found him. I guess he hit his head and stopped there?” Now that I’ve had time to think, I’m trying to piece together the scene. My best guess is that he fell. I know his foot was giving him problems, so maybe he tripped? Either way, he hit his head, and then either fell again . . . or something. Why was he dripping with sweat? Did he have to drag himself from the bathroom? I don’t know. “I couldn’t tell the paramedics anything. I don’t know what caused this or if he takes any medication . . . I called as soon as I snapped out of it.”

Savannah guides me to the chair, and she’s silent. “So, you and Eli haven’t really gotten to that share everything point?” she asks after a few minutes.

“No, I guess not. We happened so fast and so strong. It was like this tornado that swooped us both up. Plus, I was dealing with my sister’s disease, and he was trying to be there for me. I don’t know.”

She takes my hand in hers. “Randy should be out soon, he’ll let you know what’s going on.”

“I should’ve gone and checked on him earlier.”

Hindsight is a bitch. I had a feeling when he wasn’t responding. I ignored it, and he needed me.

Randy comes into view, and we both stand. “He’s going to be okay. He’s confused, but he’ll be fine.”

“Oh, thank God.” I sigh. The weight lifts from my chest, and I can breathe again.

“He wants to see you, but he needs a few more tests.”

“Okay.” I’ll sit out here and wait forever if it means he’ll be okay. He’s going to be okay. I knew I was afraid, but I hadn’t realized how tightly the fear had gripped me until it was gone. “Do you know what happened?”

Randy looks to Savannah and then back to me. “The details are fuzzy, but I’m sure he’ll explain what he remembers.”

“I’m going to call your mom,” Savannah says and kisses his cheek.

“I’m glad you checked on him,” Randy says as we take a seat. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t gone there. He’s really lucky to have you, Heather. I hope you know how much he loves you.”

It’s weird hearing this from his brother. We’ve only met twice now, but Randy seems to understand Eli at his core. He clearly loves his brother, and it’s a bond I can understand completely. What he said is something I would’ve felt toward someone loving Stephanie.

“I love him, too.”

He nods. “I believe you do.”

Savannah returns from her phone call right as the doctor comes out.

He explains that Eli finished his CT scan, and they’re going to do some additional testing, but he’s alert and receiving fluids. “He’s back in his room if you’d like to see him, he’s asking for Randy and then Heather.”

“I’ll be brief.” He smiles and then follows the doctor through the double doors.

Relief floods my veins now that we’ve confirmed he’s going to be fine. I close my eyes and say a silent prayer to Stephanie. I feel her here. This hospital was where we spent so much time together. Days of testing that turned into overnights because of her exhaustion. So many nights I slept in that God-awful chair that they said was a bed, hoping her pain would subside.

I hoped it would be a long time before I walked these halls again.

Randy returns to the waiting room not even ten minutes later.

“He’s waiting for you.” He smiles. “We have to get back to the kids, but if you need anything, just call, okay? I’ll come back tomorrow to check on things.”

Savannah pulls me in and kisses my cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow as well, okay?”

“Of course.”

I make my way to Eli’s room and knock softly. The door creaks and his eyes meet mine. All at once, my emotions burst forward. Relief that he’s okay, fear that it could’ve gone another way, happiness that he looks a little like himself, guilt that I wasn’t there, and most of all . . . love for this man.

“Eli,” I say as a prayer. I move forward, and he pulls me to his chest. “God, I was so scared.”

His arms are tight, and I breathe him in. “I’m going to be fine, baby.”

I lift my head and touch his face. “You scared me.”

He closes his eyes. “I was stupid.”

“Stupid?”

Eli takes my hands in his. “I should’ve never pushed myself.”

“What happened?” I ask, but the nurse enters.

“Hi, Mr. Walsh, I’m your nurse, Shera,” she smiles. “I’m going to start the Solu-Medrol in the IV, and then I’ll take your vitals again.”

“Thank you,” he says.

I know that drug.

I don’t know why, but I swear I’ve heard it before.

I rack my brain to remember why the hell it sounds so familiar.

Then it hits me.

Solu-Medrol is what they gave Stephanie when her nerve pain flared. It’s a drug she had several times to reduce the inflammation, and it’s only used for severe conditions.

My eyes meet Eli’s, and the floor drops out from beneath me.